Chapter 4
BLITZ: SENDING EXTRA DEFENDERS TO PRESSURE THE QB.
Turns out I needn’t have been worried about the repercussions of leaving Bryce without more than a bowl filled with barf that I’d mixed with a few shredded photos of us, my engagement ring and the pen.
I turned off my phone, worried that he would call and ruin the sanctuary of Amy’s apartment with harsh words once the party concluded.
As it was, I was drowning in tears and negative repercussions from having to come to terms with the fact that the fairy tale I was living was complete and utter bullshit.
“You are not ugly!” Amy shouted at me once I’d stopped crying enough to tell them the part of the story they couldn’t get out of me earlier while we were too busy purging my presence from Bryce’s.
“Your features are so striking, what with those bright blue eyes and those curls,” Christin growls.
“Even if you weren’t conventionally pretty—which you are, your heart makes you fucking gorgeous,” Emery’s voice is lethal.
I just bobbed my head and tried to get them to be quiet, but Bryce’s sanctimonious voice announcing my lack of beauty repeats in my mind over and over. A sob rips from my core. “This was the man who was supposed to be the love of my life.”
“You just said it brilliantly.” Amy jabs her pointer finger in my direction.
“What?” My voice is exhausted.
“Supposed to. He was supposed to be the love of your life,” Emery chimes in.
Amy wraps an arm around my shoulder and tucks me against her side. “What do you want to do next?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to know right now,” Christin shoots a fulminating glare in Amy’s direction.
“Or even soon,” Emery tacks on.
“No, I need to do something.” Amy understands what it’s like to break up with someone in the public eye. As a schoolteacher, Amy preserved her dignity instead of fighting back against the harsh accusations flung her way by the man she once loved.
But I can. In fact, my mind clears from the pain as I mentally flip through my schedule. “I only had a week before I was due to fly out, anyway.”
“Really?” Emery reaches forward for her mug of tea.
“Yes.” Mind whirling, I can’t believe I let my upcoming trip slip my mind. Especially considering the hoops I had to jump through to get approval to go. “Remember? I’m flying to Beijing and then hopping a flight to Chengdu?”
“Where is that again?” Christin asks.
“Sichuan Province,” I answer absently, mentally switching gears.
Since I assumed Bryce would be occupied with training camp, I thought it would be the perfect time for this once-in-a-lifetime trip.
Having applied at the Chinese Embassy, despite restricting my trip to only ten days, I fully intend on making the most of my visit by photographing at least Four Sister Mountain, the Yading National Nature Reserve, and the Yaqing Temple.
After giving my girls my itinerary, their expressions range from jaws hanging open to smirks. It’s Amy who jokes, “Well, that’s one way to avoid any fallout. Step back in time about 1900 years.”
“Where there’s no such thing as public Wi-Fi,” Christin interjects.
Emery deadpans, “It sounds awful. Bring me back a keychain.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t contain a tracking device,” Amy pipes in. Her college roommate is some sort of computer savant.
“I take it back. A postcard works just fine,” Emery backtracks.
Her adamance forces me to do something I never imagined I would do earlier. I burst into helpless giggles.
Once I was done, I felt some of the weight leave my chest. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll deal with Bryce. Because while a bowl full of vomit makes a statement, I have a few things I need to get off my chest.
“Are you sure you want to send him an email?” Emery asks me.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because…” she hesitates before glancing over her shoulder at Amy, who just shrugs.
“Spit it out, Emery.” My eyes cast over her shoulder to see Christin has joined Amy and is wearing the same look of concern. “All of you.”
“We all heard him, what he said—” Amy’s voice trails off.
“Minus the part about my looks.” I recount.
Christin winces. “Right.”
“Then what’s the concern?”
Emery points out, “He could try to claim damage to the ring. Sue you for it.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I’d love to see him try.”
Amy’s brows pull together in a deep V. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m the one who made him get insurance on said ring.
I could have literally tossed it into the ocean when I reach LA next week, and he would get reimbursed for it.
Taking it to a jeweler to get cleaned—which is really all he has to do—may humiliate him but is no less than what he deserves.
” I think about it for a minute. “Hell, even if he dropped it into the garbage disposal, which is where it belongs, he can file a claim.”
Amy’s face brightens. “Oh, well, if that’s the case, then email away.”
My lips twist sardonically. “Want to check my grammar before I hit Send, teach?”
“Nope. I think I’ll go on a donut run. Anyone else want to join me?” She looks pointedly at our friends.
Christin and Emery quickly take the hint and scramble to get their shoes on. Once Amy’s apartment is calm, I pull up my email.
There’s twelve emails from Bryce with subjects like “Where are you???” to “WTF!” to “PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE!” I ignore them all before opening a new message.
To: Bryce Parry
From: Maya Cox
Subject: Baby, Please Lose My Number
Bryce,
I never imagined I’d be writing this, but after what I overheard last night, I can no longer continue our engagement, let alone any sort of relationship with you.
None.
We’ve known each other since we were young children, “exclusively” dating since high school.
I thought that before we fell in “love,” we were friends before anything else.
Obviously, based on what I heard you say to your teammates, only one of those statements is true—I’ve known you since we were both kids.
Hearing you speak about me in such a derisive, cruel way was not only humiliating, but it cut to the core of the man I believed you were. The man I believed I loved.
Obviously, that man doesn’t exist.
Words like those that fell from your lips aren’t a mistake. They aren’t a result of too much alcohol, nor are they a slip of the tongue. They’re character revealing. I can’t un-hear them. They echo over and over making me wonder, how long have you thought that about me?
Don’t answer; it was a rhetorical question. I really don’t care about your answer, anyway.
I will not marry someone who belittles me behind my back or thinks so little of me in front of others. Respect is the foundation of any relationship, and yours for me is clearly absent.
In case I was not clear enough, our engagement is over. Finished. Stop trying to contact me to explain my own actions from yesterday evening. They are a small token to remind you of the way you minimized another human being—let alone the woman you proclaimed to love to her face.
I deserve better than being the punchline of your conversations. I deserve better than you. And one day, I’ll find it despite being “not that pretty.” Because you’re right. I “sure is loyal.”
One last thing. Out of respect for the children who look up to your professional image, I will keep what I overheard to myself.
Maya
I reread what I wrote once. Twice. Then I hit Send before immediately blocking Bryce’s email.
Then, like a surgeon, I cut him off from being able to contact me on any social media platform.
By the time the girls return with pink and white boxes of baked goods, I’m already changing all of my personal social media accounts to private.
Next up, the arduous task of stripping every single mutual friend Bryce and I shared between us. I want nothing about my life to get back to him.
Ever.